


Snow and Heat

by FanficsbyVe



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Size Difference, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficsbyVe/pseuds/FanficsbyVe
Summary: The Chosen Undead finds solace with a most unusual person. Request by MrWar1. FINISHED.





	1. Meeting At World's End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrWar1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrWar1/gifts).



> This is a two-parter required by MrWar1, who wanted a multiple-part M-rated fic with his/her Chosen Undead and Crossbreed Priscilla. I had no issue with this pairing because for all of Priscilla's dragon features, she's humanoid and clearly capable of giving consent, so it fits my moral code when writing requests. Here's to you, MrWar1, I hope you enjoy part one of this two-parter.

The Chosen Undead had seen many strange and horrific things on his journey through Lordran. Besides the many other Hollowed undead that littered the place, he’d already gone up against dragons, Balder Knights, plague victims, Sentinels, war boars and just about any other undesirable a particularly sadistic mind could conceive. At this point, he barely had any disgust or fright left to show. At least, until he had wandered in here.

Frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure just how he’d ended up here. One moment, he’d been talking a break from the fighting and staring at a marvelous painting, the next the thing sucked him in and he suddenly found himself inside it, a snowy and abandoned landscape. He’d be able to take that kind of experience in stride, were it not for what lay inside it.

The creatures inside this painting were some of the most horrific he’d seen yet. Bloated Hollows, vicious crow people, an undead dragon, bonewheel skeletons and undead who seemed to be fused together… It looked like something straight out of a nightmarish fever dream and he wanted nothing but get out of this place.

He seemed to be getting his wish. After fighting his way past everything this place had thrown at him, he now stood before a large fog gate. He knew what that meant. Whatever kept behind that gate was worse than anything in here, but also stood in the way out of the exit to this place. He groaned, but still proceeded, determined to leave this wretched place once and for all. 

So, after taking a deep breath, he pushed through, sword and shield at the ready. He looked around, cautiously, preparing himself for anything. He quickly caught sight of a creature in the colosseum-like structure, but once he got a good look at it, he stilled.

At first glance, he held her, at least he assumed it was female, for a human, or at least the immensely taller humanoid Godrace he’d fought many times during his journey. A second look, however, refuted that idea. What he first thought was a large white coat of fur seemed attached to her, like actual hair. A tail of the same white fur was attached to her body and the face bore traces of scales, as well as green, almost serpent-like eyes. He blinked. This was easily the oddest creature he’d ever seen.

Almost instantly, she turned to him and looked him over. On instinct, he raised his weapons, but he quickly realized she made no attempt to attack him. She looked at him almost curiously and when she spoke, her voice betrayed surprise.

“Who art thou? One of us, thou art not. If thou hast misstepped into this world, plunge down from the plank and hurry home. If thou sleekest I, thine desires shall be requited not.”

The Chosen Undead didn’t respond, simply looking this strange woman over. From the sound of it, she wasn’t hostile. In fact, she seemed to urge him to simply go away and leave him be. That definitely was a first, but he found himself far too fascinated by this being to just leave.

He put his sword and shield away, before calmly approaching her, causing her to raise her eyebrows and repeat her warning. “Thou must returneth whence thou came. This land is peaceful, its inhabitants kind, but thou dost not belong. I beg of thee, plunge down from the plank, and hurry home.”

While he almost scoffed at that claim of peace and kindness, he still responded. “I’m aware I don’t belong here, for I’ve indeed ended up here accidentally. Still, I have never met a creature quite like you. What’s your name?”

Instantly, he could feel hesitation seep into her voice. “It is Priscilla. That was the name mine father gave me. If thou willst not leave, dost thou intend to fight me then?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, I have no intention of hurting you. It is rather that I have never seen any others like you before and I’m a curious man. What are you exactly, if I may be so bold to ask?”

His assurance that he wasn’t going to hurt her seemed to relax her somewhat. He noticed how she lowered her large scythe and stepped closer. She still appeared a little hesitant interacting with him and her voice sounded shy.

“I am a crossbreed. Between a God and a dragon, to be more precise. My existence should not have been and therefore, I was take here to this Painted World, this home for that the Gods fear.”

The Chosen Undead could feel his own jaw starting to hang open at that answer. He’d met dragons and he’d met the Godrace and the idea that those could have somehow…reproduced was mind-boggling to him. He wasn’t really sure if he even wanted to think about the implications of that and frankly, his mind was somewhere else. Rather, with this particular woman.

She seemed rather young, a woman grown though only recently, if people of the Godrace indeed aged the same way humans did. The way she spoke indicated she had been here for a very long time as well, possibly since she was a child. That thought made him shudder. What he perceived of her, she wasn’t a violent person and the idea of this sweet, gentle soul being stuck here amidst the other horrors for the Gods knew how long was utterly depressing to him.

“That must be terribly lonely…”

He could see her face fall. “It is…sometimes. The other inhabitants sometimes attend me and my great-aunt Velka and uncle Gwynnant come by, but I have not seen them in a very long time…”

Her voice grew ever sadder as it trailed off and he found himself feeling immensely sorry for her. For all the times he felt discontent with his lot in life of being undead and trapped in Lordran, at least he could roam wherever he pleased and interact with other people. For all his ill luck, he wasn’t trapped in a painting, simply because someone felt he should never be born… 

He sighed for a moment, his body feeling tired and sore. By now, his fight to get through the Painted World had taken his toll on him. He knew he wasn’t going to make it back to the bonfire to rest and if he would indeed follow Priscilla’s advice and plunge down from the plank, just where would he end up? He was in no shape to actually fight again. And perhaps, he didn’t have to.

He turned to the crossbreed woman. “I know this seems quite forward, but I am rather weary of my travels and the world outside this painting is fraught with danger. Would it be alright with you if I spend the night here? I have my own bedroll and means to make a fire, as well as some food to share with you if it pleases you.”

Again, there was a flash of surprise on her face. For a moment, she remained utterly quiet, clearly hesitating on what to do. He didn’t blame her. They had only just met and she didn’t know if she could trust him. Yet on the other side, he could tell that she likely craved some company. His could feel his heart break at that. Was he the only one that came through here and spoke a few kind words to her in such a long time?

He supposed so, as she eventually nodded. “Very well. Thou hath my permission to spend the night here. But if thou dost, mayhaps will thou tellest me of the world outside? I have not seen it myself in a long time.”

That was an easy enough promise to make and he smiled. “Certainly, my lady.”

That night, the Chosen Undead had one of the calmest times since he had left the Undead Asylum. After building a fire and unfolding his bedroll, he sat there basking in its warmth and reveling in the peaceful quiet of the Painted World. What more, he found he had a lovely companion to share it with.

Priscilla clearly delighted in having some company. She was happy to chat, talking about the Painted World at length and about her own time in Anor Londo. He learned that her “father” was Seath, who created her from his own blood and that of a Goddess. Her “mother”, because of this, was Gwynevere, the Goddess of Fertility and it was her who sent her to the Painted World with Velka’s help for her own safety. She had been a little girl back then and she wondered just what was happening outside of her world.

The Chosen Undead was only happy to tell her. As they ate some of the boar meat and vegetables he had scrounged up on his journey, he spoke of the undead curse and its effects on the outside world. Yet at the same time, he also regaled her with tales of all the beautiful and fascinating things he’d seen. He told her of the calm beauty of the Firelink Shrine, the scary halls of the Depths, the creepy wastelands of Blighttown and the majestic splendor of Anor Londo.

She gasped and laughed at his tales of battling monsters and saving innocents, listening intently to his many tales of everything beyond the painting. She looked happy, no longer the uncertain, forlorn young woman he had met a few hours ago. The thought that he had made her happy by just being there, if only for a while, made him happy as well.

It was there that he realized just how beautiful she was when she smiled. By now, he’d become much more familiar with her unusual appearance. He was no longer noticing the tales or the slit pupils of her eyes. If anything, he felt she was rather lovely in her own odd way. To him, this supposed abominable half-breed was delightful company and something he had missed for a long time.

She seemed comfortable with him as well. As it became time to retire to bed, she offered him to lie close to her in order to keep warm. Seeing how the area was littered with snow, he gladly obliged and it was like that, huddled against a sweet crossbreed that he finally had his rest.

He didn’t actually need sleep being undead, but he liked to keep old habits if only for the hope he could return to them someday. So he still slept, still ate and, most of all, longed for company. Something he was finally enjoying now, albeit in a most unusual form.

Not that he minded that. Priscilla was sweet and kind and, as he noticed sleeping against her, wonderfully warm. He especially loved that warmth right now, comfortably snuggled up against her belly. It brought back memories and while something told him they were pleasant, they were also very faint. He’d been in the Undead Asylum for too long. He couldn’t even remember his own name, much less the last time he slept beside a woman. 

What little he remembered of his old life, he wasn’t a promiscuous person. He vaguely remembered a lover when he was young, whom he’d grown apart from for reasons he couldn’t recall. After her started his life as an adventurer, there had been few. He’d mostly been too busy fighting or traveling, but he recalled the odd encounter initiated by a willing tavern wench or milkmaid. He couldn’t remember much of it, only now that he missed the comfort, pleasure and just how simple life had once been…

The Chosen Undead stirred awake, then hissed when he detected a most uncomfortable sensation in his breeches. Instantly, he knew what it was and cursed. The Gods, those alive and present anyway, had a wicked sense of humor that he could get hard over vague memories in the middle of a snow-covered colosseum, sleeping against a large crossbreed woman…

If anything, it surprised him that he still could feel arousal. Being undead, he didn’t expect to, for what need was there? He grumbled. He knew he could simply wait it out, but as the stiffness became insistent and uncomfortable and certain his companion was sleeping, he decided it was quicker to take care of it.

With one last look at Priscilla, he quickly freed his manhood from his trousers. It proudly stood at attention despite the cold air, hard and persistent, begging to be touched. He complied, gripping it with one hand, not even bothering to remove the coarse leather gloves he was wearing as he slowly moved it up and down.

Instantly, he could feel more blood pooling in his crotch, his member twitching in his hold. He started a steady rhythm, sliding his fingers up and down the length. He bit back small groans as the friction, subconsciously thrusting his hips as heat settled in his stomach.

In his mind, he desperately tried to recall those memories of women he’d bedded. Of being buried in their heat, holding them in his embrace, lapping at their flesh. He imagined thrusting between their thighs, lower muscles gripping him hard, meanwhile pushing into his own hands ever harder, reaching for a climax that only seemed just out of reach.

“What art thou doing?”

The moment those words reached his ears, the Chosen Undead froze. Unable to move, he looked up, only to realize in horror that Priscilla was in fact awake. She stared at him quizzically with those large green eyes. Instantly, he could feel shame wash over him and as he quickly tried to pull his pants back over his somehow still hard member, his mind scrambled to find some kind of excuse for what he was doing.

“Oh, thou wert pleasuring thyself?” 

Her question was spoken so casually that it would have floored him if he wasn’t already lying down. He had enough sense about him to know what he was doing was not exactly proper, especially not so near to a woman he only knew for a few hours. What surprised him, however, was that she didn’t seem uncomfortable with it at all.

“Thou dost not have to be embarrassed. It is a natural thing both men and women do every now and then in private. That is what great-aunt Velka told me.”

Again, she sounded very matter of fact. It was only then and there that it occurred to him that this girl had grown up here, away from society as he or anyone else knew it. Her great-aunt had clearly taught her a few things about her own body, but apart from the biological basics, she likely had very little social sensibilities to go on.

“I know… It’s rather…you’re not supposed to do it in front of strangers. Please forgive me. I acted indecently.”

There was a look of confusion, only followed by a soft reply complete with a blush. “Oh… No harm done. It is simply… I guess I do not frown on these things as much as normal people would. It has always been just me here… No need to feel shame.”

The Chosen Undead simply nodded. Though he was very glad he hadn’t made her uncomfortable with his rather selfish actions, he’d rather just forget this incident and go back to sleep. Even though his erection was still painfully stiff and refused to flag no matter how hard he tried to think of something unappealing. 

There was a silence again and he tried his best go return to his slumber. Still, he could tell Priscilla was still awake and it was very difficult to try and get his rest knowing her eyes were on him. Then, after a while, she spoke again.

“Hast thou ever…engaged in these private matters with another?”

If he hadn’t been uncomfortable before, he certainly was now. He looked up at her, watching her stare back at him curiously. Again, he tried to remind himself that she didn’t have the same sense of shame and sin as he did and that she was simply seeking an honest answer. As such, he figured, he might as well respond.

“I have, yes… But that was a very, very long time ago…I barely remember.”

He saw how her eyes widened at that. “May…May I ask thee what it feels like? With another person?”

This time, she actually blushed and it definitely wasn’t helping his own situation. “Well, it depends on both you and the person you’re with. I do remember it felt…good. Pleasurable. In a different way than when you do it yourself.”

She simply nodded at that information. “I see… I have never…and I was curious to know…”

He didn’t know what to say to that and he decided saying nothing was better than saying something foolish. So he laid back down and still tried his best to think of something that would ease the pressure in his lower body. Alas, it proved to have little success and soon, he just gave up and hoped it would go away on his own.

“Thou art still…aroused…”

Priscilla’s words didn’t help in the slightest. Not knowing what else to do, he remained quiet. At least, until he could feel her reach out to him rather hesitantly. Instantly, he shrank back and looked at her, only to be met by her blushing face.

“Wouldst thou like it if I…”

It was right there that the Chosen Undead genuinely found his mind going blank. He wanted to say something, anything, but found his tongue had simply gone limp. Was she really…

The very first coherent thought that came to his mind was that she wasn’t exactly unattractive. What he could see of her form looked human enough and she was rather beautiful in her own strange way. Still, with their immense size difference, actual intercourse seemed impossible and that was not even taking into account that judging from her words, she was still a virgin.

Frankly, that last one gave him far greater pause. Priscilla, to him, seemed like a sweet girl. She deserved far better than to have her first time with some nameless traveler that would be gone again come morning. Besides, what if got her with child? He had no idea whether crossbreeds were fertile at all, but it was not a risk that he was willing to take. 

Still, another part of him couldn’t simply cast the idea aside. His time here in Lordran had been one of the loneliest of his life and he craved companionship in any shape or form. He had really enjoyed his time with this girl and he’d be lying if he claimed she wasn’t to his fancy. What more, she had offered and she was clearly at least aware of what sexual actions entailed. Perhaps…

He nodded, feeling himself grow red as he responded. “A-alright. Just…use your hands and nothing else.”

She chuckled at that, despite seemingly being a bit disappointed. She propped herself up on her elbow, waiting for him to undo his pants again. He did, albeit hesitantly, and quietly waited, wondering what he had gotten himself into. 

He hissed a little as he felt a cold hand close around his still hard member, only for his breath to hitch as she started to carefully move it. Her palm was rather soft despite some calluses and he completely held still. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had touched him there and it was uneasy and exciting all at the same time.

Soon, he shut out everything else as he focused on the movements on his companion. Heat returned to his loin as she started to move her hand up and down the length of his manhood, her fingers almost feathery light against the smooth skin. She seemed rather fascinated by seeing him get harder and she soon applied a slightly tighter grip.

He moaned before he could stop it and if anything, it seemed to intrigue her. Soon, another hand came into play as well and he was helpless to do anything as she continued her explorations. One hand cupped his balls, carefully fondling them, while the other roughly caressed his shaft. It was enough to make him rock his hips instinctively, wanting nothing more than feel the warm, inviting fingers of this beautiful woman around the most sensitive part of him.

When she rubbed a thumb over the head, pressing it gently against the slit, he was practically mewling. He swore he was sweating despite the cold and every stroke and tug almost made him delicious. At this point, he was practically begging for her not to stop and he could only rejoice when she clearly had no intention to.

Even so, he jerked when he suddenly felt a hot, wet tongue run down his length. He looked down with a start, reading out to take hold of her face though not sure if he actually wanted to stop her. She looked up at him with those unusual green eyes, questioning. 

“Oh, thou dost not want that?”

By now, he was sure he looked more like the red Hellkite Drake he’d slain than any human. “I would not mind, though I would not want you to feel uncomfortable.”

She didn’t even dignify him with an answer, a slight smirk spreading across her face. Before he could even think of saying anything to that, she lowered her head again and her mouth once again enveloped him. Frankly, he didn’t want to talk or think at all.

Soft groans spilled from his mouth as he could feel her tongue lap at the underside of his manhood, before running it back over the tip. Her hands stroked what she couldn’t take in, her fingers teasing his sac. The gentle sucking motions of her lips made him forget everything and soon, he was gently pushing against her, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her pleasuring him with her mouth.

Every lick and stroke was quickly bringing him closer to release. He could only hazily look down to see her pleasure him. Her strangely delicate fingers stroked the veins, the sensation almost ticklish. She meanwhile kissed and licked the head, only to move down to envelop more of his length. Eventually, she took him all the way into the back of her mouth and he could already feel his balls tightening.

He moved ever so slightly against her lips, a familiar feeling taking hold in his abdomen. His manhood was pulsing, his pleasure building with every motion. By now, he was no long bothering trying to be quiet and when she once again too him in entirely and tugged at his sac, he could hold back no longer.

Gently untangling himself from her hands and mouth, it only took but a stroke of his own hands to come apart. He groaned loudly as he spilled his seed on the snow, gloriously delirious in his climax. He was panting, dizzy with enjoyment, the only thought going through his head that he had been without this for so long.

It took him quite a while to come off his high again. He lay back against his bedroll, gasping for breath. His skin was flushed and the sweat was cooling against his skin, while the last remnants of pleasure will still coursing through his veins. 

It was then a soft giggle caught his attention. He looked up, meeting with Priscilla’s amused expression. He quickly looked her over, worried he had unsettled her somehow, but if anything, she merely seemed proud of her achievement.

“Was it…pleasurable to thee?”

He smiled awkwardly. “It was. I thank you for that.”

She blushed in response and after quickly pulling up his breeches, he got ready to snuggle up against her and resume his sleep. At least, until another thought occurred to him. Which was just how the lovely crossbreed had experienced the whole thing.

While he had definitely enjoyed this, she probably hadn’t gotten much out of it. Truth be told, he didn’t like the thought. She deserved to have some fun too and while he wanted to refrain from actual intercourse, there were other ways to please a woman. 

“Would…would you like me to return the favor?”

There was a short silence, only for her pale face to flush. “Thou…wouldst?”

He snickered. “Only if you want it.”

She simply stared at him and for a moment, he figured she was going to refuse. He couldn’t blame her. No doubt it was kind of awkward for her to have a stranger’s hands on her, even after what they had just shared. 

Yet just as he was about to drop the matter, she spoke up shyly. “I…would like that, yes…”

With those words, she hesitantly rolled onto her back, waiting for him to make his move. He readily obliged, moving over to between her legs. He hiked up her unusual fur dress, bracing himself for what he might find, only to then smile. 

Priscilla’s lower body was rather fascinating to behold. Her womanhood was normal, barely larger than that of a normal human female if at all, sensitive pink flesh with a thatch of white hair above it. On her thighs, he could spy some patches of the same scales on her face and neck. He curiously ran his hands over them, finding them smooth and cool to the touch. She shivered a little at his touches and he decided to make the most of this odd opportunity.

He lazily started to caress the inside of her thighs, savoring the feeling of her soft skin. She sighed softly, voicing no protest at his attentions, and it took it as a sign to continue. He grazed his lips against it, placing soft kisses on it as he slowly worked his way to the center, meanwhile taking off his leather gloves.

His first touch was light, carefully exploring. He gently ran his fingers up the slit, softly kneading the lower lips and paying close attention to her reactions. He could hear her breathe in, legs trembling, and he carefully pushed his finger between the lips to get to the small bud inside it.

The Chosen Undead could already feel some wetness and he grinned as he focused all his attention on her most sensitive body part. She squeaked when he touched it for the first time, but made no attempt to stop him. As such, he repeated the action, teasing it out of its hood, determined to get her as excited as possible.

He teasingly started to rub his thumb across the little nub, watching it become engorged as those beautiful legs of hers started to tremble. Her womanhood was becoming moist and she was no longer so quiet and hesitant. Soft mewling sounds spilled from her mouth and she started to push her hips at him, wordlessly pleading for him to go on. He certainly wasn’t about to deny her and decided to step it up a little.

A loud whimper left her mouth when his tongue replaced his fingers. He eagerly started to lap at her bud, occasionally sucking at it, taking great pleasure in seeing how it affected her. He could hear how she started to breathe ever faster, digging her fingers in the snow in an effort to grasp at something. It didn’t take long for her to beg for more and he was only happy to obey.

Once certain she was wet enough, he started to push a finger into her opening. She jerked a little, but certainly didn’t protest, her body soon relaxing against the intrusion. He started to gently move it in and out of her, probing around to find out what made her mewl the most. 

Suddenly, his digit found that little rough patch inside her. He stroked it roughly, meanwhile using his tongue on her sensitive little nub. Instantly, she thrust her hips at him, moaning on top of her lungs, panting loudly. 

He responded by adding another finger and it wasn’t long before Priscilla was reduced to a whimpering, squirming mess. He could feel how her lower muscles contracted around his digits, taste her arousal with every flick of his tongue. Her skin was flushed and her breasts heaved from the effort of her panting. 

He didn’t let up for even a second and after a particular rough grazing against that patch inside, she became undone. A loud wail tore itself from her throat and her hips jerked. He watched in utter fascination how she clamped around him, some fluids running from her engorged womanhood. He simply continued her ministrations, drawing out her climax for as long as he could.

Finally, she lay back, limply and gasping softly, clearly spent from his efforts. He carefully withdrew from her, wiping his fingers clean. He pulled her dress back over her legs and crawled on top of her. He nuzzled her still red face, smiling at how flustered she looked.

“Did you like that?”

She shyly smiled at him, blushing but clearly at ease. “Yes, I did. That was…rather unexpected… But good nonetheless. I thank thee, but I am rather tired now...”

He could only laugh at that. He leaned forward to kiss her on her scaled brow, then told her to get some sleep. She happily took him up on that, lying back and closing her eyes to return to her slumber. She made no effort to have him get off her and as such, he simply curled up against her chest, surrendering himself to sleep as well.

As he lay there drifting off, he noted to himself that not everything about this place was so bad. He’d just had one of the most pleasant encounters with a living being in a long time and for once, he felt human again, rather than some undead shell shambling around to find a reason to survive. Here, in this place that held everything the Gods feared, he’d found some peace of mind and companionship, something he couldn’t even put a price on at this point. It was a shame that he’d have to leave here again soon…

The next morning, the Chosen Undead left the Painted World with a heavy heart. It pained him to have to go again and leave Priscilla there, especially after what they had shared. He rather lingered as he said his goodbyes and it was her who eventually urged him to plunge down from the plank and continue his quest.

As he leaped into the abyss that would return him to Anor Londo, his thoughts were with the events of that last night. About what exactly had happened between him and his unlikely companion. Only now did it occur to him that he had been intimate with a crossbreed, which was definitely not something he’d ever expected to do in his life. 

No doubt, he had committed a mortal sin by doing that. After all, Priscilla’s existence was an abomination in the eyes of Gods and Men alike and he had lain with her. By their conventions, he should be filled with shame and self-loathing. Then why was it that he felt absolutely no remorse? 

If anything, he could feel himself feeling warm all over just thinking about his time with Priscilla. She was no beast and a woman grown, more than capable of choosing to make love to whomever she wished. What’s more, he had valued his time with her immensely, their banter and conversations, just her presence and the fine company she had provided him with. As far as he was concerned, there was absolutely no sin in what they had shared and he would do it all again when presented with the choice.

Actually, he figured he might actually do that. He had the Lordvessel now and Homeward Bones. He now knew how to reach the Painted World. Whenever he was tired of pursuing his goals in the Lordran, there was nothing that would stop him from returning there. Frankly, he wouldn’t mind that idea. As odd as it seemed, in this wasteland of undeath and loneliness, he’d left a little bit of his heart with Priscilla and he’d very much like to visit the lovely crossbreed once more in the near-future.


	2. A Future Undecided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priscilla and the Chosen Undead consummate their relationship.

He’d walked away. 

The one thing he told himself he’d never thought he’d do. To stand in front of a solution to his problem and yet turn away, simply because he didn’t like the terms. Yet here he was and he had…and he didn’t feel remorse about it in the slightest.

He’d refused to link the First Flame. To perpetuate the, albeit temporary, salvation of humankind. He refused to give his life after releasing Gwyn from his suffering, unable to bear the idea that all he would do was start the cycle anew.

The Primordial Serpents had called him the Dark Lord. He didn’t care what they called him. What they thought he would be. He refused to play any part another had assigned to him.

No, he needed no Lordship. If he was going to live in an Age of Dark, it would be on his terms and those alone. But before he’d do so, he’d first go back to bring back the one person in this hideous affair he cared too much about to leave behind. And considering the secrets he had found in Anor Londo, he wouldn’t have to.

This time, his journey to the Painted World was almost easy. He was familiar with it now, the horror of its creatures dulled after everything he had gone through. Besides, he wasn’t wondering aimlessly anymore. He knew exactly where to be.

As he once again stepped through the fog gate, a smile was already on his face. She was still here. Still armed with a scythe yet refusing to battle. Still waiting for something she thought would never come. The mistress of this forgotten Painted World.

When she saw him, he could see Priscilla’s eyes grow wide. “Oh… Thou hast returned?”

He nodded. “Yes. My journey is over. But I just really wanted to see you again.”

Instantly, he was rewarded with a blush on her part. Still, she happily approached him, crouching down to greet him. There, she hesitated, seemingly not sure what to do. He was, however, and simply leaned close, pressing a kiss on her cheek. 

He smiled as she practically turned into a tomato, quickly changing the subject so she’d feel a little more comfortable. “I brought you some things. I actually had the time to do so now.”

She cocked her head. “Oh… That is…very kind of thee. Thou should not have…”

He chuckled. “I know. But I really wanted to.”

Again, she showed that absolutely lovely smile. She sat down in front of him, legs crossed, putting her scythe at her side. He too sat down and proceeded to take some things out of his bag, eager to present her with the small gifts he’d gathered during his journey to the Kiln.

He recalled to some degree that these weren’t the kind of gifts he would present a lady with under normal circumstances, but she clearly liked them well enough. The golden flowers from the Royal Wood fascinated her. She told him she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen flowers and marveled at their vibrant color and wonderful smell. 

She was equally delighted by the beautiful silver ring he’d found in the Duke’s Archives. She asked him about the place she was born in, how it looked now. He told her truthfully, but made sure to mention just how grand and awe-inspiring it still looked. He was somewhat hesitant to tell her of the fate of her “father”, but she quickly confirmed to him that she had no real feelings towards the creature who thoughtlessly created her and didn’t exactly lament his passing.

In fact, she was rather more curious about Anor Londo. She was a little disappointed to learn that all of the Gods save Gwyndolin had left the city, but glad to hear it was still as splendorous as she remembered. Still, she was extremely happy when he showed her the portrait he had acquired of Gwynevere. She remembered her “mother” as a kind, gentle woman who saved her from Gwyn’s wrath and just hoped she was in good health, wherever she was.

The other gifts equally fascinated her. Some colorful prism stones. A pendant. A golden coin. Some candy he scrounged up here and there. She was happy to see all these items not known to her little Painted World and demanded him to tell her all about it.

The Chosen Undead did so happily, telling her about each and every item, where he got them and their use. He could only chuckle at her almost childlike curiosity and all the questions she asked him, yet it also made him sad. After so long in his cold and dreary place, some small things he’d picked up here and there were enough to make her day…

Still, it didn’t have to be that way. He had come across something interesting, by the same need of exploration that brought him to the Painted World. He could only hope she would accept.

Indeed, he saw her expression change when he handed her the peculiar doll. She stared at it for a brief moment, only for her eyes to go wide. Her mouth fell open. She brought it close to her, her fingers stroking the rough texture.

“I…remember this… It’s… Lady Gwynevere gave this to me… It brought me here. To keep me safe…”

For a moment, it looked as if she was about to burst into tears. So much so that it tugged at his heartstrings as well. He reached out, putting a hand on hers, deciding that it was the right time to tell her.

“It can also take you out of here now…”

Those words had her look at him, questioning, he continued. “I found a way to reverse the process. Now, it will take you from this painting, if you so wish.”

She gave him an incredulous look, beset by astonishment and a perhaps a flicker of hope. It wasn’t long, however, before her expression once again turned to sadness. She sighed and he could detect a sense of resignation in her voice.

“That is very kind of thee. But I do not belong in the outside world. The Gods said I am an abomination, a mistake… What is there for me outside of this world?”

That question had him pause, but he still answered. “I don’t know, but the world is a vast and strange place. Surely there has to be a place for the likes of us out there.”

He saw how she arched a scaled eyebrow at him. “Us?”

It was there he realized he had perhaps said too much. In any other case, he would have shrugged it off and changed the subject. Yet now, with just the both of them in this cold, lonely place, he figured he might as well be honest.

“I would like it if you’d come with me. This Painted World and the one outside is decaying and there is no point to die amidst the rot. Why not find your fortune elsewhere, in the company of those one cares about? Surely that beats lying down and accepting defeat…”

She didn’t respond to what he said, at least not right away. She simply looked him over, her expression even and her emotions unclear. It was only after a long while when her face lit up and she once again smiled her beautiful smile. 

“Dost thou fancy me, nameless traveler?”

Now it was his turn to flush scarlet. Clearly, trying to sound diplomatic hadn’t exactly worked out for him. Clearly, he wasn’t as good at masking his feelings as he thought he was.

Yet then, what was the point of denying it? He had a soft spot for this lovely crossbreed, especially after the intimacy they had shared and in this horrid place, that was as good as anything. He wanted to have her with him on this journey into the unknown, either as a friend and companion or perhaps even something more… As strange as it was, what was the point of even denying that?

He chuckled, awkward but unashamed. “I suppose I do…”

To say she looked embarrassed would be an understatement. Still, it was clear she wasn’t unreceptive of his confession. Her smile only grew wider and he saw she looked happier than she had looked in a very long time. 

Suddenly, she leaned down, moving in close. He paused for a moment, only to then realized just what she wished from it. He obliged, leaning in close himself and pressing a heartfelt kiss to her lips. She giggled a little as he tried to gently press his tongue into her mouth, but if he thought she would retreat at that, he was wrong.

She responded quite eagerly and he didn’t mind at all. Soon, he was on her chest, kissing her passionately, trying to keep his hands from slipping down to it. Even if they had already been intimate in a way, he definitely didn’t intend to press further than she wanted to.

Priscilla, however, didn’t seem very interested in keeping it chaste. Eventually, she pulled away and her face was more flushed than ever. By the tone of her voice, it was clear she was trying to be coy and saucy, but the adorable shyness still seeped through it all. 

“What we did last time… Wouldst thee mind taking it a little further?”

He paused, looking her over. Even though he knew what she meant, he still didn’t want to believe it. Did she really just ask him to make love to her?

Before, he might have felt a sense of hesitation at that. Not anymore. He’d become a lot more confident after their last time together and any reservations about being intimate with a crossbreed were long since gone. He wanted her, enough to return to the Painted World for her, and if she were a willing participant, he was not going to turn down her advances.

He chuckled, only able to think of one answer to that question. “Never when it’s you.”

That made her smile. Almost immediately, she moved a little, as if to lie on her back. He quickly stopped her. He knew she hadn’t been with anyone before, so she likely only had the most rudimentary idea of what the experience was like. That was a problem, or at least, he would do his best to keep it from becoming one.

He smiled at her. “Sit up against the wall. I’ll take it from here.”

Priscilla gave him a strange look, but still obliged. She leaned against one of the pillars and waited, staring at him expectantly. He fought the urge to smile. If only she knew the things he had in mind for her…

Exchanging looks in order to get her permission, the Chosen Undead then proceeded to pull down the top of her dress, revealing her breasts. He could feel her inhale sharply, goosebumps spreading all over the skin was the cold air hit them. He stared down and remained frozen for a moment in absolute captivation. 

He decided then and there that she had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. They were not too large, even if that was all relative considering their size difference, with soft, pale flesh and luscious pink nipples that were already hardening. A few more of her signature white scales dotted the area around the areolas and the sight of them was enough to entice him.

He gently ran his hands over them and almost immediately, she sighed. He could feel her entire body relaxed, feeling her lean forward to press into his hands. In response, he continued to massage the flesh, taking note of her soft breathing, determined to make the most of it. 

She gasped when he ran his fingers across the nipples, her cheeks growing ever redder yet making no attempts to stop him. He lazily traced circles around them, softly kneading the flesh around them, before rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the nubs. She mewled, begging under her breath.

“That…feels really good. Do not stop…” 

He simply grinned at her and lowered his head, taking a nipple into his mouth. She shuddered as he sucked on it, running his tongue over the hardened flesh. His other hand got to worked on the other one and he could soon feel how her muscles slackened, pressing upwards to receive more of this attention.

He was happy to give her that and he took his good time before he dared venture lower. He pulled up her skirt as he had done once before, smiling when he was greeted by a lovely and familiar sight. She was already rather wet, but he felt there was no harm in adding to that a little more.

A new chorus of wails met his ears as he pressed his tongue to that sensitive spot above her womanhood. Her strong legs kicked for a moment, jolted by the sensation of him assaulted her folds, only for her to go limp against the pillar. She pushed against him as he slid two fingers inside her, trying to force them deep within her soaking channel, working her hips over them in a frenzied pace.

The Chosen Undead could already feel fluids leaking out of her and knowing this was about as wet as she could get, he decided to proceed. He freed his own manhood from his breeches, already hard from watching her grow this aroused. He put himself between her legs, but before he went ahead, he looked up at her.

“Tell me to stop if I hurt you, alright?”

She nodded, a little flustered though with a trace of excitement in her voice. “I…I will…”

He felt how she rubbed against him, teasingly almost. It made him want to plunge right into her then and there, but he decided to take it slow. She was still untouched and from what he’d seen so far, the size difference made little difference for her more intimate parts. The last thing he wanted was for her first time to be painful or unpleasant. 

Gripping his manhood with one hand, he ran it across the slit a few times. She mewled at this, whimpering as if in need. Clearly, she wasn’t very patient and to be fair, neither was he. So, caressing the inside of her thighs, he decided to go ahead and finally experience what it was like to actually make love to her.

She gasped and he grit his teeth as he entered that tight, hot and wet vice, not feeling different than that of a human female. It gripped him so hard it made him dizzy and he had to use all his restraint to enter her slowly. He was immensely relieved when he felt little to no resistance, but he still held still for a while, giving her time to get used to him. 

As he did, he once again reveled at how soft she felt. How warm and inviting. She looked so beautiful sitting there, taking in the way their bodies were connecting. It felt raw and primal, yet beautifully intimate and safe. Yet above all, it felt immensely good.

Priscilla didn’t need long. Within moments, she was bucking her hips, demanding him to move, determined to once again feel that high they had shared last time he was here. Feeling her so snugly around the most sensitive part of his body, he saw absolutely no reason to disobey her.

Maintaining a slow pace, he pulled back an inch before thrusting into her. She squirmed, a loud mewl spilling from her mouth, a wordless plea for him to do it again. So he did, a little more roughly this time, practically smirking as he saw her head loll back and he decided there was no point in holding back. 

Within moments, he was pushing into her frantically, almost savagely. She tried her best to mirror his movements, panting loudly. She was slick and accommodating, her inner walls clamping around him fervently. Being inside her was amazing and he took no small amount of pride in the fact that she was enjoying herself this much.

He smiled, pressing soft kisses onto her belly, drawing a ticklish laugh from her. A laugh that turned to another moan when he put his hand between their bodies and started to toy with the sensitive nub above her opening. She squirmed in response, toes curling, moving against him begging for more. 

Her whimpers of pleasure were the single most addicting thing he’d ever heard.   
Using her responses for guidance, he moved himself in and out of her, pulling out until the tip before roughly pushing back in, over and over. Until there was nothing on his mind but the two of them. 

There was no restraint, no shame. Just them, two lonely and forlorn people, sharing this sense of intimacy on the edge of existence. Just two bodies connected in the most intimate way, both well on their way to the promise of release that awaited them at the end.

Priscilla got there first. Suddenly, her lower muscles constricted all around him and it only took him a few more flicks of her sensitive nub for her to go over the edge. Her climax came hard and fast, accompanied by continuous wails of pleasure as her body shook. He could only watch how she then leaned against the pillar, out of breath, quiet moans escaping her lips as she rode out the rest of her climax.

Her pleasure only spurred him on, pumping himself between her legs until he too achieved that blissful peak he so longed for. He could feel his manhood twitch inside her, seeing stars as he released himself deep inside that inviting heat. He moved a few more times, jerkily and weakly, spending himself to the last drop until he simply slumped against her, completely consumed by his high.

It took a good while before his senses finally returned to him again. The Chosen Undead couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt so worn out outside of battle or the last time he’d enjoyed something so intensely. He stood up, although shakily, and looked his lover over. 

Priscilla seemed tired, her pale skin flushed a lovely pink. She was still panting, her breasts moving with each breathe. She was clearly tired, but she seemed happy and satisfied as well.

He crawled into her lap, nuzzling her chest. The sensation had her open her eyes and she looked down on him. He chuckled, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.

“Are you alright? I mean…did you enjoy it too?”

A giggle left her mouth. “I did. I thank thee. It was very pleasurable. I would quite enjoy doing it again...”

He probably had the world’s most stupid grin on his face as she said that. Not that he cared. Right now, there was no a place in the world where he’d rather be than her, in her arms, in the afterglow of making love to his beautiful woman. 

He pressed small kisses on her breasts, causing her to sigh happily at the attention. She wrapped her arms around him and he moved up to her face. He kissed her, allowing his tongue to wrestle with hers, still feeling the faint hints of passion in his abdomen.

Eventually, he pulled back smiling. “Some other time. Let’s have a rest first. And then, we’ll make our plans to leave this wretched place.”

She nodded with a small laugh. She was happy to let him help her put her dress back in place, as well as clean her lower body. Still, she was quick to pull him back to her once she was snug and warm again and he soon found himself nestled against the soft material. As if he minded. 

As he curled up against her, he felt happier and more confident than he’d been in a very long time. Tomorrow, the two of them would use the Doll to get out of this wretched place and head back into the real world, to a place where the rot and dark could not reach them. Where he’d find that, he wasn’t sure, but nothing kept him from trying. 

They were an odd couple, the two of them. The crossbreed and the undead. Both feared by the Gods, both frowned upon by Men. It almost made him smile wryly. How both would be outraged now that a union of sorts had been established between the two of them.

Once, he might have wondered or worried about sins. Yet now, having walked away from a hollow salvation, the concept of sin was meaningless for him. Who was it anyway, to deign it sinful to go against a rigid caste system. To tear down tyrants who created so much suffering. Who would object to two consenting beings seeking out each other’s company?

He looked up at Priscilla, nuzzling her neck. He loved her, he was sure of it. Loved her as much as he could love anyone in this wasteland that was Lordran. Still, that was all he needed. He would love her, cherish her, share both table and bed with her. And, most of all, he would protect her from anyone who would take offense at her existence and try to harm her.

That was the vow he made to himself, there in the colosseum of the Painted World. A good oath, as far as he was concerned. One that made him more human than any amount of humanity ever could. He could love, care for someone, and so could Priscilla. Perhaps, in this coming Age of Dark, that was all they needed.


End file.
